the one who got away

i like walking on these parquet floors because they give me an illusion that i am walking with you, where i see two shadows instead of mine alone. i follow the herringbone pattern until i reach my destination and before her,  i will stand, stare at the mysterious beauty that da vinci captured in canvass. her smile always reminds me of yours, as if you share a secret, kept miles apart and you both make me wonder. you are my own mona lisa. 


or that afternoon where i saw someone standing, his face partly hidden by a book, inhaling its scent. for countless times when we were still together, i saw you do that, where you always say that the smell of old books is your own drug, it keeps you high, it makes you orgasmic. i thought i saw you on that bookstore, but the setting sun played a trick on me. he looked at me and i saw a stranger.


or that early morning when i crossed the street, and i looked into a pair of eyes - the same color as yours - and my own heart choked me. i could feel it strangling me, leaving me breathless. i felt it was your eyes staring unto mine, like the first time you stared at me on that restaurant. i blinked and i saw cars, i heard their impatient horns and like those angry drivers, i cursed.  you are my curse, that i admit.


and on my countless dates, with guys better looking than you, more intelligent than you, talking over gourmet food and yet all i could think is the simple meals you cook.  i think of you and i think of home. i see you, everywhere.  from a slice of light in a curtain, to the pages of a book i am reading. to a pair of shoes, you love shoes.  or a lone soul in that coffeshop, he reminds me of you, your 'me' time and your 'silence in chaos'.

the endless line of lovers, leaving the room, their backs on me.  i try to find your lips on one of them, to feel just the touch of your fingertips, your breath, your skinny chest light on top of me.  i try, and i fail.  i search for the one i once had. and lost.

i remember you, i remember that night you followed a trail of clothes and found me, naked with someone else, in that bed that we used to call our own.  i still see you, your sad eyes, your calmness, those determined steps, echoing silently.


i regret that night, the night you walked away, and i let you.